


How to Gay-Panic Your Way to a Soulmate

by rea_of_sunshine



Series: Reddie, Set, Soulmates! [3]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Anxious Eddie Kaspbrak, Eddie Kaspbrak is a Mess, Gay Panic, M/M, Oblivious Eddie Kaspbrak, Romantic Soulmates, Soft Richie Tozier, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-19 05:26:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22139179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rea_of_sunshine/pseuds/rea_of_sunshine
Summary: Eddie'd had a crush on Richie for years, and the first time he got to talk to him,thisis the bullshit fell out of his mouth.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: Reddie, Set, Soulmates! [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1587550
Comments: 30
Kudos: 362





	How to Gay-Panic Your Way to a Soulmate

Normally, Eddie liked working the information desk at the university library. It was quiet and calming and dusty, yeah, but not _dirty_. His boss let him do his homework on-duty, too, which, as Eddie stared down at his Spanish notes uncomprehendingly with his chin in his hand, he thought might be his undoing. He’d already had to jerk his eyes open twice in the last five minutes, Spanish verb conjugations swirling around like fluffy, little sheep. 

Eddie sat up straighter in his chair and looked around, determined to find something interesting in the quiet room to distract him long enough not to fall asleep face-first on his desk. There were a few people tucked down in the lounge chairs, laptops glowing softly on their faces. People were scattered around tables, milling through the periodicals, whispering with one earbud briefly removed for note-sharing. 

Eddie envied very single one of those productive-looking mother fuckers. He was going to fail first-grade Spanish as a 4.0 college senior if he couldn’t get his act together. 

The doors to the library heaved open, and Eddie’s breath stuttered. Waltzing through the door with his bag slung haphazardly over one shoulder, laughing at the redheaded girl by his side, his head thrown all the way back, was Richie Tozier. 

Eddie’s entire face heated up just at the sight of him. Richie had been in a few of his classes through the years, always sitting just close enough that Eddie could make out the exact shade of brown behind his glasses but always just far enough away that Eddie had never been able to scramble up an excuse to actually _talk_ to him. So, Eddie, like the creeper he was, just gazed longingly at him for each class period they shared together until the teacher dismissed them, Richie gathered up his things, and Eddie was left watching the smile Richie tossed to his friends as he walked away. 

Richie had a lot of friends, from what Eddie could tell. People were drawn to him, and Eddie got that. He really did. He’d felt the pull of Richie Tozier time and time again. 

Honestly, Richie’s popularity was one of the reasons Eddie hadn’t worked up the nerve to talk to him yet—aside from Eddie just being chicken-shit. Richie had a lot of friends, and Eddie really didn’t. He had Bill, and he had his mom. That was it for Eddie. There was no way a cool guy like Richie would want to date Eddie, and more, there was no way _in hell_ a cool guy like Richie was Eddie’s soulmate.

Eddie hadn’t found his soulmate yet, and despite his frankly massive crush on Richie Tozier, Eddie was determined to save everything he had for his soulmate. He’d never even kissed anyone. 

Richie walked past the information desk with the redhead, cut him a cursory grin that sent Eddie’s heart stuttering, and shoved the lazily-folded sleeve of his awful— _sexy_ —printed flannel higher up his arm. 

Fuck, _Richie_ had probably kissed someone. Probably loads of people. People were probably busting down the doors to kiss him. Eddie tried not to blush, and Richie planted himself at a table directly in Eddie’s eyeline. 

Eddie suddenly regretted wishing for a distraction. His Spanish homework was absolutely a lost cause now. 

The redhead slid into a chair across from Richie and leaned forward, whispering to him too low for Eddie to hear. Her head nodded toward the information desk, and Richie glanced over at him. 

“Oh, shit,” Eddie hissed, dropping his eyes and doing his very best not let his entire body burst into flames after being caught staring at Richie. Nothing was smoking, so he thought he was managing okay, even though the words were swimming around on his notebook like they were trying to stop-drop-and-roll. He tried to remember the phrase his Spanish teacher made bathroom-seeking students repeat before leaving, thinking the mental search would calm his embarrassment.

“Hi, excuse me,” Eddie heard, after a while of his own panicked breathing. Eddie’s whole body went stiff. There, on the inside of his forearm, the words, _Hi, excuse me_ , were scrawled in his soulmate’s messy script. It was supposed to be the first thing his soulmate said to him. 

Eddie had lost count of how many times someone uttered those words to him while he sat behind the information desk. But Eddie knew that voice. He’d heard it laughing across classrooms enough to know. Richie had just said the words of Eddie's soulmark, and Eddie wanted to disappear into thin air and just fucking Houdini his way out of the horrible tease. Fate was cruel, that much he knew. 

Normally, he would just smile and help the lost student find their book, watching with laser focus for whoever he was talking with to look like he’d said something as familiar to them as their own name. They never gave him that wide-eyed, slack-jawed look. 

Eddie’s eyes flicked away from his homework, up the fingertips that Richie had resting on the edge of his desk. His ears were ringing loudly, tongue swallowed back in his throat, doubly so when his eyes scraped over the soulmark on Richie’s inner arm barely peeking out from his stubborn shirt sleeve. 

_Can I help you with something?_

Eddie’s throat clicked. He’d been about to say that. Shit, but now he couldn’t. Richie probably got asked if he needed help with something every time he stepped into a shopping mall. Eddie couldn’t say that! Otherwise, Richie might think they’re soulmates and miss out on the chance to meet his _actual_ soulmate, one much better suited for him than _Eddie_. 

Eddie felt like he was on fire all over as his eyes darted up to Richie’s face, the slightly confused waiting smile, shit, the curls, and Christ, Eddie had never been close enough to see the freckles dusting Richie’s nose, and fuck! He was still waiting on Eddie to say something! 

Eddie suddenly remembered the bathroom pass.

“Tengo que hacer pipí!” he said, too loud in the otherwise quiet library. There was a beat, a moment of pure, unadulterated horror as Eddie’s eyes went wide. Mortified, as Richie’s brows furrowed together, his smile dipping.

“Sorry, I don’t—” Richie abruptly cut himself off with a pained gasp. His hand shot up and clenched around his soulmark, shoulder dropping. “Fuck!” he gasped, and Eddie was on his feet, hovering with wide eyes. 

After a moment, Richie peeled his hand away. They both stared at the place his soulmark had been, and still was, but different. There, immortalized forever in Eddie’s own sharp handwriting, were Eddie’s panicked first words to Richie Tozier. 

_Tengo que hacer pipí!_

I have to make pee pee. 

Eddie’s first words to Richie Tozier had been, _I have to make pee pee._

Eddie wanted to die, fuck Houdini. He wanted straight-up death. 

Richie’s eyes swung back up to him, wide and angry. Eddie guessed that was fair. He’d have that tattoo for the rest of his life. 

It slammed into Eddie very abruptly that Richie Tozier, the guy he’d had a crush on for literal years, was his soulmate. He stared back at Richie, his eyes going even wider, if possible. 

“The fuck man?! You didn’t want me to be your soulmate _that_ badly?” Richie’s brows were furrowed, and his mouth was open, and if Eddie didn’t know any better, he’d say Richie looked _hurt_. 

“I panicked!” Eddie blurted, admittedly, still panicked.

“Why?!” Richie asked, his volume rising to match Eddie’s. 

“Because I’ve had a crush on you for, like, ever!” The hurt look on Richie’s face melted away, leaving that pure, Richie-classic, puppy-dog excitement in its place. Eddie’s heart swooped wildly.

“No fucking way, man," Richie urged, "I’ve had a crush on _you_ forever!”

“Shut up!” Eddie loudly insisted. 

“You shut up!” Richie said, practically bouncing. 

“ _Both_ of you, shut up! I’ve got a test tomorrow,” a new voice called. Eddie tore his eyes away from Richie to find they were still in the library, with at least a dozen angry faces staring at them. 

Eddie pressed his lips into a hard line to keep from giggling. He found Richie’s eyes again, and the humor rolling around in them squashed any self-reserve he might have had. They both burst into stifled laughter. 

“Can I buy you a coffee?” Richie asked, smiling softly once the laughter eased. Eddie found himself tracing the words on Richie’s forearm with his eyes. The warmth inside him stemmed equally from the fact that Richie fucking Tozier was his soulmate and the fact that Eddie had gay-panicked so hard that Richie’s soulmark now pronounced Eddie needing to pee, for eternity. Eddie groaned.

“I think I’m the one that owes you a drink,” Eddie said, looking back up at Richie through his eyelashes. Richie’s brows pulled together for a moment, and his eyes flicked down to his fresh soulmark. 

“Why? What does it mean?” Richie asked. Eddie closed his eyes tight and began shoving his books back in his bag. The desk would be fine for one coffee break. 

“Come on,” Eddie said, hauling his bag up and stepping around the desk. He moved quickly for the door, as though he could outrun Richie’s question. 

“Eddie, wait up!” Richie called, sliding out of the library right behind Eddie. The wind was cold and biting, but Richie was warm by Eddie’s side. 

“How do you know my name?” Eddie asked, and Richie shook his head.

“No, no, don’t avoid the question.” Eddie gave Richie a hard look, and Richie’s grin turned sheepish. He scrubbed a hand down the back of his neck and matched Eddie step for step. “Like I said,” Richie relented with a shrug, “forever crush.” 

Eddie looked over at him, at his soulmate. Fuck. 

“It means, ‘I need to make pee pee’,” Eddie said quietly. Richie’s footsteps stopped all at once. Eddie turned back, ready for Richie to look angry or upset or something other than the stunned way he was currently looking. One corner of Richie’s mouth ticked, and when he spoke, his voice was level. 

“You…you need to make pee pee,” Richie repeated. Eddie closed his eyes, nodded. 

Then, Richie _howled_ with laughter, doubling over and clutching his stomach. 

“Oh, my God,” Richie gasped, “Oh, my God, that is absolutely priceless.” 

“Shut the fuck up, dickwad,” Eddie spat, but Richie just swiped hysterical tears from the corner of his eyes and roped an arm around Eddie’s shoulders. 

“God, we’re going to be the world’s most chaotic couple, do you know that?” Richie asked, grinning down at Eddie. Eddie flushed. Richie was his soulmate. They were going to be a couple. He elbowed Richie but leaned closer.

“Shut up,” he said again, managing far less heat than before.

By the time they made it to the campus café, Eddie realized for all his corded-bracelet-ironic-flannel-shredded-rocker-jean-wearing-cool-guy energy, Richie was actually a big fucking dork. 

And _Christ_ did it make Eddie ache. He got why people liked Richie. He was so open and welcoming, and even though he looked like _that_ , Eddie couldn’t find it in him to be intimidated anymore, not with how excitedly Richie had babbled about the new fro-yo place that was coming to campus and somehow managed to knock himself in the chin with his frantic arm-waving. Eddie was warm all over as they ordered their coffee. 

“For you, my good fellow,” Richie said in a terrible accent, pulling out a chair with a flourish. Eddie snorted. 

“I still can’t believe it’s you,” Eddie murmured as he settled into his chair, his coffee tight in his grips. Richie gave him a soft smile as he fell into his own. 

“You’re telling me.” A flash of red rose to Richie’s cheeks, and Eddie watched it, fascinated. Then, Richie laughed, scrubbed his palms down the tops of his thighs. “Sorry! Sorry. I’m a little, er…nervous.” 

“Nervous?” Eddie asked, tipping his head. Eddie had been nervous, yeah, but now. Now, he really wasn’t. He was just glad to be there with Richie. 

“Yeah, man. I really thought I was never going to work up the nerve to talk to you. Probably wouldn’t have tonight if Bev hadn’t been flattening my hand under her elbow.” Richie laughed again and pushed a hand through his hair. Eddie’s stomach fluttered at the thought of being able to do exactly that one day. 

“You don’t have to be nervous, you know?” Eddie said. He took a slow sip of his coffee, watching Richie’s face. A sort of calm seemed to roll through it, and he grinned. 

“Yeah, I guess I don’t. Seems you’re sort of stuck with me now, Spaghetti.” He flashed his soulmark up at Eddie, and Eddie groaned. 

He hated that tattoo, almost as much he loved it.

* * *

##### Two Months Later

Eddie sat in the leather chair by Richie’s side, absolutely pouting. Richie lifted his free arm and pinched his cheek.

“You’re so cute when you’re grumpy, babe,” Richie crooned. 

“I fucking hate you for this,” Eddie said, slapping Richie's hand away. He glared at the tattoo gun pressing down on Richie’s arm. 

“No, you don’t.” Richie grinned. He took one of Eddie’s hands, and Eddie squeezed. Yeah, okay, he didn’t _hate_ Richie. But he was pissed. 

The tattoo gun clicked off, and the artist wiped away the excess ink. 

“Alright, you’re all set,” she said, leaning back and admiring her work. 

Eddie glared at it, wishing he could burn it out of Richie’s skin by his hatred of it alone. 

“This is a way better story than, ‘Hi, excuse me,’ and ‘Can I help you with something?’” Richie said, grinning down at the new tattoo above his soulmark. 

The fresh words were angry and red, but they taunted Eddie all the same.

_***gay panic***_  
_Tengo que hacer pipí!_

**Author's Note:**

> I'd say I'm sorry except I'm not because I thought this was so funny, and I hope you did, too. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! And thanks to [Mere_Mortifer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mere_Mortifer/pseuds/Mere_Mortifer), who laughed at these dumbasses with me and encouraged this tomfoolery. Go shower her with love<3


End file.
